Chapter 73 - In Which Porthos Begins To Be Sorry For Having Come With D'artagnan

Scarcely had D'Artagnan extinguished his taper, when Aramis,
who had watched through his curtains the last glimmer of
light in his friend's apartment, traversed the corridor on
tiptoe, and went to Porthos's room. The giant, who had been
in bed nearly an hour and a half, lay grandly stretched out
on the down bed. He was in that happy calm of the first
sleep, which, with Porthos, resisted the noise of bells or
the report of cannon; his head swam in that soft oscillation
which reminds us of the soothing movement of a ship. In a
moment Porthos would have begun to dream. The door of the
chamber opened softly under the delicate pressure of the
hand of Aramis. The bishop approached the sleeper. A thick
carpet deadened the sound of his steps, besides which
Porthos snored in a manner to drown all noise. He laid one
hand on his shoulder - "Rouse," said he, "wake up, my dear
Porthos." The voice of Aramis was soft and kind, but it
conveyed more than a notice, - it conveyed an order. His
hand was light, but it indicated a danger. Porthos heard the
voice and felt the hand of Aramis, even in the depth of his
sleep. He started up. "Who goes there?" cried he, in his
giant's voice.

"Hush! hush! It is I," said Aramis.

"You, my friend? And what the devil do you wake me for?"

"To tell you that you must set off directly."

"Set off?"

"Yes."

"Where for?"

"For Paris."

Porthos bounded up in his bed, and then sank back again,
fixing his great eyes in agitation upon Aramis.

"For Paris?"

"Yes."

"A hundred leagues?" said he.

"A hundred and four," replied the bishop.

"Oh! mon Dieu!" sighed Porthos, lying down again, like
children who contend with their bonne to gain an hour or two
more sleep.

"Thirty hours' riding," said Aramis, firmly. "You know there
are good relays."

Porthos pushed out one leg, allowing a groan to escape him.

"Come, come! my friend," insisted the prelate with a sort of
impatience.

Porthos drew the other leg out of the bed. "And is it
absolutely necessary that I should go, at once?"

"Urgently necessary."

Porthos got upon his feet, and began to shake both walls and
floors with his steps of a marble statue.

"Hush! hush! for the love of Heaven, my dear Porthos!" said
Aramis, "you will wake somebody."

"Ah! that's true," replied Porthos, in a voice of thunder,
"I forgot that; but be satisfied, I am on guard." And so
saying, he let fall a belt loaded with his sword and
pistols, and a purse, from which the crowns escaped with a
vibrating and prolonged noise. This noise made the blood of
Aramis boil, whilst it drew from Porthos a formidable burst
of laughter. "How droll that is!" said he, in the same
voice.

"Not so loud, Porthos, not so loud."

"True, true!" and he lowered his voice a half-note.

"I was going to say," continued Porthos, "that it is droll
that we are never so slow as when we are in a hurry, and
never make so much noise as when we wish to be silent."

"Yes, that is true, but let us give the proverb the lie,
Porthos; let us make haste, and hold our tongue."

"You see I am doing my best," said Porthos, putting on his
haut de chausses.

"Very well."

"This is something in haste?"

"It is more than that, it is serious, Porthos."

"Oh, oh!"

"D'Artagnan has questioned you, has he not?"

"Questioned me?"

"Yes, at Belle-Isle?"

"Not the least in the world."

"Are you sure of that, Porthos?"

"Parbleu!"

"It is impossible. Recollect yourself."

"He asked me what I was doing, and I told him studying
topography. I would have made use of another word which you
employed one day."

"`Castrametation'?"

"Yes, that's it, but I never could recollect it."

"All the better. What more did he ask you?"

"Who M. Getard was."

"Next?"

"Who M. Jupenet was."

"He did not happen to see our plan of fortifications, did
he?"

"Yes."

"The devil he did!"

"But don't be alarmed, I had rubbed out your writing with
India-rubber. It was impossible for him to suppose you had
given me any advice in those works."

"Ay, but our friend has phenomenally keen eyes."

"What are you afraid of?"

"I fear that everything is discovered, Porthos; the matter
is, then, to prevent a great misfortune. I have given orders
to my people to close all the gates and doors. D'Artagnan
will not be able to get out before daybreak. Your horse is
ready saddled; you will gain the first relay; by five
o'clock in the morning you will have traversed fifteen
leagues. Come!"

Aramis then assisted Porthos to dress, piece by piece, with
as much celerity as the most skillful valet de chambre could
have done. Porthos, half stupefied, let him do as he liked,
and confounded himself in excuses. When he was ready, Aramis
took him by the hand, and led him, making him place his foot
with precaution on every step of the stairs, preventing him
running against doorframes, turning him this way and that,
as if Aramis had been the giant, and Porthos the dwarf. Soul
set fire to and animated matter. A horse was waiting, ready
saddled, in the courtyard. Porthos mounted. Then Aramis
himself took the horse by the bridle, and led him over some
dung spread in the yard, with the evident intention of
suppressing noise. He, at the same time, held tight the
horse's nose, to prevent him neighing. When arrived at the
outward gate, drawing Porthos towards him, who was going off
without even asking him what for: "Now friend Porthos, now;
without drawing bridle, till you get to Paris," whispered he
in his ears; "eat on horseback, drink on horseback, sleep on
horseback, but lose not a minute."

"That's enough, I will not stop."

"This letter to M. Fouquet; cost what it may, he must have
it to-morrow before mid-day."

"He shall."

"And do not forget one thing, my friend."

"What is that?"

"That you are riding out on a hunt for your brevet of duc
and peer."

"Oh! oh!" said Porthos, with his eyes sparkling; "I will do
it in twenty-four hours, in that case."

"Try."

"Then let go the bridle - and forward, Goliath!"

Aramis did let go, not the bridle, but the horse's nose.
Porthos released his hand, clapped spurs to his horse, which
set off at a gallop. As long as he could distinguish Porthos
through the darkness, Aramis followed him with his eyes:
when he was completely out of sight, he re-entered the yard.
Nothing had stirred in D'Artagnan's apartment. The valet
placed on watch at the door had neither seen any light, nor
heard any noise. Aramis closed his door carefully, sent the
lackey to bed, and quickly sought his own. D'Artagnan really
suspected nothing, therefore thought he had gained
everything, when he awoke in the morning, about halfpast
four. He ran to the window in his shirt. The window looked
out upon the court. Day was dawning. The court was deserted;
the fowls, even, had not left their roosts. Not a servant
appeared. Every door was closed.

"Good! all is still," said D'Artagnan to himself. "Never
mind: I am up first in the house. Let us dress; that will be
so much done." And D'Artagnan dressed himself. But, this
time, he endeavored not to give to the costume of M. Agnan
that bourgeoise and almost ecclesiastical rigidity he had
affected before; he managed, by drawing his belt tighter, by
buttoning his clothes in a different fashion, and by putting
on his hat a little on one side, to restore to his person a
little of that military character, the absence of which had
surprised Aramis. This being done, he made free, or affected
to make free with his host, and entered his chamber without
ceremony. Aramis was asleep or feigned to be so. A large
book lay open upon his night-desk, a wax-light was still
burning in its silver sconce. This was more than enough to
prove to D'Artagnan the quiescence of the prelate's night,
and the good intentions of his waking. The musketeer did to
the bishop precisely as the bishop had done to Porthos - he
tapped him on the shoulder. Evidently Aramis pretended to
sleep; for, instead of waking suddenly, he who slept so
lightly required a repetition of the summons.

"Ah! ah! is that you?" said he, stretching his arms. "What
an agreeable surprise! Ma foi! Sleep had made me forget I
had the happiness to possess you. What o'clock is it?"

"I do not know," said D'Artagnan, a little embarrassed.
"Early, I believe. But, you know, that devil of a habit of
waking with the day sticks to me still."

"Do you wish that we should go out so soon?" asked Aramis.
"It appears to me to be very early."

"Just as you like."

"I thought we had agreed not to get on horseback before
eight."

"Possibly; but I had so great a wish to see you, that I said
to myself, the sooner the better."

"And my seven hours, sleep!" said Aramis: "Take care; I had
reckoned upon them, and what I lose of them I must make up."

"But it seems to me that, formerly, you were less of a
sleeper than that, dear friend; your blood was alive, and
you were never to be found in bed."

"And it is exactly on account of what you tell me that I am
so fond of being there now."

"Then you confess that it is not for the sake of sleeping
that you have put me off till eight o'clock."

"I have been afraid you would laugh at me, if I told you the
truth."

"Tell me, notwithstanding."

"Well, from six to eight, I am accustomed to perform my
devotions."

"Your devotions?"

"Yes."

"I did not believe a bishop's exercises were so severe."

"A bishop, my friend, must sacrifice more to appearance than
a simple cleric."

"Mordioux! Aramis, that is a word which reconciles me with
your greatness. To appearances! That is a musketeer's word,
in good truth! Vivent les apparences, Aramis!"

"Instead of felicitating me upon it, pardon me, D'Artagnan.
It is a very mundane word which I had allowed to escape me."

"Impossible, I made an appointment with them yesterday; it
is the principal of the college of the Jesuits, and the
superior of the Dominicans."

"Your staff? Well, so be it."

"What are you going to do?"

"I will go and wake Porthos, and remain in his company till
you have finished the conference."

Aramis did not stir, his brow remained unbent, he betrayed
himself by no gesture or word; "Go," said he, as D'Artagnan
advanced to the door. "A propos, do you know where Porthos
sleeps?"

"No, but I will inquire."

"Take the corridor, and open the second door on the left."

"Thank you! au revoir." And D'Artagnan departed in the
direction pointed out by Aramis.

Ten minutes had not passed away when he came back. He found
Aramis seated between the superior of the Dominicans and the
principal of the college of the Jesuits, exactly in the same
situation as he had found him formerly in the auberge at
Crevecoeur. This company did not at all terrify the
musketeer.

"What is it?" said Aramis, quietly. "You have apparently
something to say to me, my friend."

"It is," replied D'Artagnan, fixing his eyes upon Aramis,
"it is that Porthos is not in his apartment."

"Indeed," said Aramis, calmly; "are you sure?"

"Pardieu! I came from his chamber."

"Where can he be, then?"

"That is what I am asking you."

"And have not you inquired?"

"Yes, I have."

"And what answer did you get?"

"That Porthos, often walking out in a morning, without
saying anything, had probably gone out."

"What did you do, then?"

"I went to the stables," replied D'Artagnan, carelessly.

"What to do?"

"To see if Porthos had departed on horseback."

"And?" interrogated the bishop.

"Well, there is a horse missing, stall No. 3, Goliath."

All this dialogue, it may be easily understood, was not
exempt from a certain affectation on the part of the
musketeer, and a perfect complaisance on the part of Aramis.

"Oh! I guess how it is," said Aramis, after having
considered for a moment, "Porthos is gone out to give us a
surprise."

"A surprise?"

"Yes, the canal which goes from Vannes to the sea abounds in
teal and snipes; that is Porthos's favorite sport, and he
will bring us back a dozen for breakfast."

"Do you think so?" said D'Artagnan.

"I am sure of it. Where else can he be? I would lay a wager
he took a gun with him."

"Well, that is possible," said D'Artagnan.

"Do one thing, my friend. Get on horseback, and join him."

"You are right," said D'Artagnan, "I will."

"Shall I go with you?"

"No, thank you; Porthos is a rather remarkable man: I will
inquire as I go along."

"Will you take an arquebuse?"

"Thank you."

"Order what horse you like to be saddled."

"The one I rode yesterday, on coming from Belle-Isle."

"So be it: use the horse as your own."

Aramis rang, and gave orders to have the horse M. d'Artagnan
had chosen, saddled.

D'Artagnan followed the servant charged with the execution
of this order. When arrived at the door, the servant drew on
one side to allow M. d'Artagnan to pass; and at that moment
he caught the eye of his master. A knitting of the brow gave
the intelligent spy to understand that all should be given
to D'Artagnan he wished. D'Artagnan got into the saddle, and
Aramis heard the steps of his horse on the pavement. An
instant after, the servant returned.

"Well?" asked the bishop.

"Monseigneur, he has followed the course of the canal, and
is going towards the sea," said the servant.

"Very well!" said Aramis.

In fact, D'Artagnan, dismissing all suspicion, hastened
towards the ocean, constantly hoping to see in the Landes,
or on the beach, the colossal profile of Porthos. He
persisted in fancying he could trace a horse's steps in
every puddle. Sometimes he imagined he heard the report of a
gun. This illusion lasted three hours; during two of which
he went forward in search of his friend - in the last he
returned to the house.

"We must have crossed," said he, "and I shall find them
waiting for me at table."

D'Artagnan was mistaken. He no more found Porthos at the
palace than he had found him on the sea-shore. Aramis was
waiting for him at the top of the stairs, looking very much
concerned.

"Did my people not find you, my dear D'Artagnan?" cried he,
as soon as he caught sight of the musketeer.

"No; did you send any one after me?"

"I am deeply concerned, my friend, deeply, to have induced
you to make such a useless search, but, about seven o'clock,
the almoner of Saint-Paterne came here. He had met Du
Vallon, who was going away, and who being unwilling to
disturb anybody at the palace, had charged him to tell me
that, fearing M. Getard would play him some ill turn in his
absence, he was going to take advantage of the morning tide
to make a tour to Belle-Isle."

"But tell me, Goliath has not crossed the four leagues of
sea, I should think."

"There are full six," said Aramis.

"That makes it less probable still."

"Therefore, my friend," said Aramis, with one of his
blandest smiles, "Goliath is in the stable, well pleased, I
will answer for it, that Porthos is no longer on his back."
In fact, the horse had been brought back from the relay by
the direction of the prelate, from whom no detail escaped.
D'Artagnan appeared as well satisfied as possible with the
explanation. He entered upon a part of dissimulation which
agreed perfectly with the suspicions that arose more and
more strongly in his mind. He breakfasted between the Jesuit
and Aramis, having the Dominican in front of him, and
smiling particularly at the Dominican, whose jolly, fat face
pleased him much. The repast was long and sumptuous;
excellent Spanish wine, fine Morbihan oysters, exquisite
fish from the mouth of the Loire, enormous prawns from
Paimboeuf, and delicious game from the moors, constituted
the principal part of it. D'Artagnan ate much, and drank but
little. Aramis drank nothing, unless it was water. After the
repast, -

"You offered me an arquebuse," said D'Artagnan.

"I did."

"Lend it me, then."

"Are you going shooting?"

"Whilst waiting for Porthos, it is the best thing I can do,
I think."

"Take which you like from the trophy."

"Will you not come with me?"

"I would with great pleasure; but, alas! my friend, sporting
is forbidden to bishops."

"Ah!" said D'Artagnan, "I did not know that."

"Besides," continued Aramis, "I shall be busy till mid-day."

"I shall go alone, then?" said D'Artagnan.

"I am sorry to say you must; but come back to dinner."

"Pardieu! the eating at your house is too good to make me
think of not coming back." And thereupon D'Artagnan quitted
his host, bowed to the guests, and took his arquebuse; but
instead of shooting, went straight to the little port of
Vannes. He looked in vain to observe if anybody saw him; he
could discern neither thing nor person. He engaged a little
fishing boat for twenty-five livres, and set off at
half-past eleven, convinced that he had not been followed;
and that was true, he had not been followed; only a Jesuit
brother, placed in the top of the steeple of his church, had
not, since the morning, by the help of an excellent glass,
lost sight of one of his steps. At three-quarters past
eleven, Aramis was informed that D'Artagnan was sailing
towards Belle-Isle. The voyage was rapid; a good north
north-east wind drove him towards the isle. As he
approached, his eyes were constantly fixed upon the coast.
He looked to see if, upon the shore or upon the
fortifications the brilliant dress and vast stature of
Porthos should stand out against a slightly clouded sky; but
his search was vain. He landed without having seen anything;
and learnt from the first soldier interrogated by him, that
M. du Vallon had not yet returned from Vannes. Then, without
losing an instant, D'Artagnan ordered his little bark to put
its head towards Sarzeau. We know that the wind changes with
the different hours of the day. The breeze had veered from
the north north-east to the south-east: the wind, then, was
almost as good for the return to Sarzeau, as it had been for
the voyage to Belle-Isle. In three hours D'Artagnan had
touched the continent, two hours more sufficed for his ride
to Vannes. In spite of the rapidity of his passage, what
D'Artagnan endured of impatience and anger during that short
passage, the deck alone of the vessel, upon which he stamped
backwards and forwards for three hours, could testify. He
made but one bound from the quay whereon he landed to the
episcopal palace. He thought to terrify Aramis by the
promptitude of his return; he wished to reproach him with
his duplicity, and yet with reserve; but with sufficient
spirit, nevertheless, to make him feel all the consequences
of it, and force from him a part of his secret He hoped, in
short - thanks to that heat of expression which is to
secrets what the charge with the bayonet is to redoubts -
to bring the mysterious Aramis to some manifestation or
other. But he found, in the vestibule of the palace, the
valet de chambre, who closed the passage, while smiling upon
him with a stupid air.

"Monseigneur?" cried D'Artagnan, endeavoring to put him
aside with his hand. Moved for an instant the valet resumed
his station.

"Monseigneur?" said he.

"Yes, to be sure; do you not know me, imbecile?"

"Yes, you are the Chevalier d'Artagnan."

"Then let me pass."

"It is of no use."

"Why of no use?"

"Because His Greatness is not at home."

"What! His Greatness is not at home? where is he then?"

"Gone."

"Gone?"

"Yes."

"Whither?"

"I don't know; but perhaps he tells monsieur le chevalier."

"And how? where? in what fashion?"

"In this letter, which he gave me for monsieur le
chevalier." And the valet de chambre drew a letter from his
pocket.

"Give it me, then, you rascal," said D'Artagnan, snatching
it from his hand. "Oh, yes," continued he, at the first
line, "yes, I understand; "and he read: -

"Dear Friend, - An affair of the most urgent nature calls
me to a distant parish of my diocese. I hoped to see you
again before I set out; but I lose that hope in thinking
that you are going, no doubt, to remain two or three days at
Belle-Isle, with our dear Porthos. Amuse yourself as well as
you can; but do not attempt to hold out against him at
table. This is a counsel I might have given even to Athos,
in his most brilliant and best days. Adieu, dear friend;
believe that I regret greatly not having better, and for a
longer time, profited by your excellent company."

"Mordioux!" cried D'Artagnan. "I am tricked. Ah! blockhead,
brute, triple fool that I am! But those laugh best who laugh
last. Oh, duped, duped like a monkey, cheated with an empty
nutshell!" And with a hearty blow bestowed upon the nose of
the smirking valet de chambre, he made all haste out of the
episcopal palace. Furet, however good a trotter, was not
equal to present circumstances. D'Artagnan therefore took
the post, and chose a horse which he soon caused to
demonstrate, with good spurs and a light hand, that deer are
not the swiftest animals in nature.